


The Symposium

by Cosmicboredom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Plot, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Language, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 15:04:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmicboredom/pseuds/Cosmicboredom
Summary: Plato's Symposium was a debate of a collaborate of minds, all giving praise to one being, Eros the Greek God of Love. All the greatest came to the feast to throw their lot in; such as Aristophanes, who wrote of his third gender.The Androgynous were split from the revenge of Zeus, and Apollo sewed them back together out of mercy for their misery. They long forever for their other half, and develop a deep, irrevocable understanding of their other half.The story ends in Socrates' tragedy winning, but Aristophanes saw the world in a different light.





	The Symposium

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for The Symposium.

Under those eyes, he couldn’t imagine breathing.

It was not something he would innately _ forget _ to do, but it was certainly harder to draw air when those endless, sharp, _ living _eyes cataloged his every move. Every breath, every slow blink, and bitten lip. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.

It hadn’t been his choice after all; that blame laid all upon the War, and to some extent, Voldemort. Crammed into a house that neither had enjoyed, at each other’s throats constantly, with no one else to keep them company at night. It was bound to happen, but when it did, he was swept away by the fierceness of it.

The first night, he had been found in the other man’s bedroom. Hand on his cock, and face buried in the sheets, he knew he overstepped a line that required harsh punishment. But the tall, usually dour, master of wit said nothing. But he _ watched _ and that made it all the more humiliating, especially when a delicate eyebrow arched high enough to speak.

_ What do you think you’re doing, idiot? _

He remembered how he choked out the moan as an answer, it still stuck in his throat when he thought about it. He didn’t stop either, his blood was on fire, emboldened by the fact that he hadn’t been expulsed spontaneously.

And then a curious thing happened.

Snape’s hand was touching his belly, stroking it almost possessively, and those black eyes were boring holes into his skin. Almost as if he were unbelieving that there was anything _ there, _ as if he were an interesting specimen to be observed intensely for illness. A loud gasp echoed in the room, surprising the Potions Master into jerking back. “Sorry, sorry.” Harry breathed, coaxing the snake into returning.

The other nights followed like a river, flowing into each other despite the obstacles and tribulations. Until the War was over, until the world was safe.

Severus did, technically, die. For ten minutes. Ten terrifying, trembling, tearful minutes. Time lost when they both had so little time already. Words echoing in his ears; _ i love you, don’t be an idiot, please be safe. _

And despite all their warnings, they both ended up in the worst of it.

That first breath was like someone had dragged him out of an ice cold rain, and he cried. He did. He couldn’t help himself, because minutes later that voice and those eyes were alive again. Completely recovered, almost by magic. A hand came up to grip his throat, squeezing just enough to tell him that he was alive, but not enough to harm.

Then they just fell together, in that house that they both hated. And the house grew lighter, and then changed entirely.

It was a home, one neither had been able to have for many years. There were still lingering items and curses and enchantments left behind by the ancient House of Black, but it was closed off, locked away until it could be dealt with. Like many of their scars.

Sunlight finally made it into the halls, but never into the bedroom.

In that one room, they were allowed to be killers and heroes, _ real _ heroes. Harry always needed the punishment, it was just so much easier to deal with when Severus dealt out spankings with a firm hand. And he loved how it always ended up with them sprawled over each other.

“Say it,” That voice growled into his ear, nails digging into his scalp with fury that he revelled in.

“I am a fucking slut for you.” He answered.

“That’s a good boy.” Severus pulled back, his free hand popping the buttons off his shirt. “Why are you here?”

Harry arched up, his head stuck in the vice that was Severus’ skilled grip, pushing against the hand at his front. Severus let out a disappointed noise, something like a whine and a tsk all in one. He had heard it before, and his blood pressure raised as he realized what was going to happen.

The hand in his hair tightened more than he thought it could, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “I need it!” he whined, “I need you to save me.”

Severus let up. “Of course you do, stupid boy.” The words were crooned into his ear like a prayer. His bare chest was open for the inspection, and he knew that he wouldn’t stand well in this one. “So many scars.”

He whimpered at the reminder. “Severus…”

“Hush, you. Ah, see here. Damaged, and broken, and beautiful. These tell stories, Potter.”

He nodded, the tears finally slipping from his eyes to skid into his hair.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Sev.”

“Liar. You were pitying yourself. Poor precious Potter, all the fame and none of the glory. You killed people.”

“I killed friends.” He agreed, nodding again, feeling hairs slip from his skull in that tight grip. “So many people are dead because of me.”

Severus growled low in his throat. “What should your punishment be?” He asked in that gruff voice, eyes greedily drinking in the sight of him as he struggled to think past his raging arousal.

“I- I should- Anything. Whatever alleviates my guilt, Sev.” He gasped as that free hand dipped into his waistband. His body jerked upward involuntarily.

“My little whore. You just gave me the keys to the whole kingdom.” Severus scoffed. “I could hurt you, leave you in pain for days. Would that satisfy your guilt, Harry?”

He whined as fingers wrapped around his cock, and he feared the threat here. It could be taken away, most of the Death Eaters got this very same treatment, was he not worthy of it too? Stealing Severus from both Voldemort and Dumbledore, murdering children whose choices were taken away, letting everyone he loved stand between him and Death. These are just a few of his crimes, he certainly could have fallen hard.

But Severus had seen the horror, knew the difficulty of such choices like an iron brand on his arm. If Harry was to go down, then Severus would fall first. The fear was only a part of the game.

“Quiet down, you muling curr. If I wanted you to lose this part of your anatomy, I would have it myself for Potions ingredients. No use wasting so much magical potential, you would know that if you put that singular brain cell of yours to work.”

Harry smirked. “It wouldn’t have bothered you if it hadn’t seemed real. Keep going.”

Severus gave him a grimace, actually considering his performance like the professor he used to be. “Only if I did not know you.”

Sometimes Severus needed to remember. And those were bad days, full of tight words, heavy tension, and painful reminders.

Severus never let Harry subject him to the same treatment, those nights were for bittersweetness. Slow, languid, taking the time they never had before. Harry loved it almost as much, because Severus was always himself. There was never any change.

It was one of those nights that left Harry shaking from the force of his orgasm, shaking from how Severus whispered into his skin. Breathy words of endearment, that the man would be caught dead saying in the light, imprinted into his skin with magic that wasn't his own. And Severus wasn't done watching him fall apart at the seams.

"Tell me again," Severus growled low. "Come on, Potter."

Through the waves of shivering, and the shorted wiring in his brain, he grasped for the English language.

"I- I wanted you. For _ so _long. I wanted you to bend me over your desk," he gasped in air as Severus started up again. "That night-! W-when you caught me, in your pensieve. I wanted to provoke you. Wanted your hands on my throat with your cock inside me." Harry put Severus' hand over his jaw, and Severus dragged it down his neck, putting pressure where he wanted it. "I would have let you then, I wanted it as badly as I wanted to kill Voldemort. As badly as I wanted to hurt you. I would have held it over you- Sev, fuck- I would have made you fuck me more. 'Til I screamed."

"I'll make you scream." Severus promised gruffly, closing his fingers on Harry's voice box. "I want to feel it." He squeezed a bit more, but not enough to turn off his lights.

"C'mon, make me scream, Sev." He breathed when Severus leaned in for a kiss. He heard a sound Severus never made before, something wholly broken and unfixable, a pitiful sound that only gave him a rush of greed. He wanted it again. Severus picked up the pace finally, grinding into him like a fevered man, making more of those little half-growls that sent chills up and down Harry's spine.

The new position and tempo was just as chilling. He could feel his legs shaking again already, in beat with Severus' voice. The hand tightened minutely over time as Severus was getting closer to the edge where Harry had been suspended for hours.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. Sev, harder. C'mon."

_ "Yesssssssss…" _

"Oh, fuckin'. Sev. Sev! I'm- oh, fuck! Fuck!"

"C'mon, Harry. Come _ on! _ Come for me, Harry. I want to hear you _ now _."

Harry felt his toes curl as he crested, and he let it out. Severus wanted to hear it, he would give him the moon and stars if he could.

Harry's friends didn't understand, but that was okay with him. Nobody else _ had _to understand why they needed each other. He knew why. Severus knew why.

Harry remembered the conversation he had with Dumbledore, on that last night in the Forbidden Forest, remembered that he was the last Master of the Hallows, the last Master Severus would ever serve. Harry knew Severus expected something much worse than this, that Harry would use him the same way he had been used.

Severus knew Harry would never ask him to do something he didn't want to do.

  



End file.
